The Hour of Departure
by Lashworthe
Summary: Fenris travels to Skyhold and demands the Inquisitor's help in finding Hawke. Eager to forget the sting of Solas' disappearance, she agrees and sets off on a new adventure. But the further the research into the fade takes them, the more it becomes clear there's more at play here than they thought.


Bare feet burned and bloodied didn't slow his running. Fenris hadn't traveled this far, this fast since his days of fleeing Danarius. Days and nights blurred into the scenery, nothing mattered but getting to Skyhold and proving that Varric's letter was wrong. The dwarf exaggerated; he made tales out of sentences and Fenris couldn't believe those words he'd struggled to read.

"Fenris,

I don't know how to begin this letter. It's not news I'd ever want to send and I'm sorry it's coming from me. Hawke's gone. He, the Inquisitor, and a few other warriors got mixed into blood magic and ended up physically in the fade. Hawke didn't make it out. He stayed behind to let everyone else escape. Bastard always did have to help everyone else.

I'm sorry Fenris."

It'd taken him almost an hour to read the entire letter and when the words finally made sense and slipped into his mind, Fenris hadn't hesitated. He'd grabbed his sword, a small pack of supplies and ran for Skyhold. The letter had to be wrong; Hawke couldn't be just gone. Hawke was larger than life, and it wasn't possible that he was just gone. Healed breach in the sky or not, nothing could take Hawke away.

It took one week and three days for Fenris to cross the world and find Skyhold. Groups traveled to it in swarms now, everyone speaking in reverent tones about this inquisitor, but Fenris just saw red. This 'savior' of their world had taken Hawke into her hands and now he was somehow gone?

Walking into the courtyard of Skyhold, Fenris looked around at the large castle, parts still in disrepair but it felt nothing like the gaudy homes of Tevinter. Skyhold seemed a part of the world itself and the old magic burned against the marks in his skin. A woman with dark olive skin and black hair stood at the gate, helping take names and directing people to where they needed to go. He pushed his way through the crowds to her.

"I will see the Inquisitor." He said.

His voice was hoarse from weeks on not speaking and a scant amount of water. Who had time to eat and drink when getting here was all that had mattered?

She looked up at him. "Oh, you look a bit injured. We have some chantry sisters who can-"

"I will see the inquisitor now." He said.

"And what was your name?" She asked.

"Fenris." He said, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

As long as he kept moving the pain across his soles didn't phase him, as long as he didn't think too long he could keep moving, a delicate tightrope to tread to keep upright.

"I'm afraid the inquisitor is not taking visitors." She said with a practiced smile.

Fenris recognized it as the smile of a diplomat. He'd seen them float in and out Danerius' life with their offers of political power and manipulation.

"She will see me." Fenris said and he felt the spark of the lyrium markings ignite across his skin.

"Josephine, is there a problem?" A large blond man came to stand beside her.

Fenris did not miss his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. Then the hand moved and the man said, "Maker, Fenris? Is that you?"

Fenris forced himself to look up at the man's face. "How do you know that name?"

The man cleared his throat. "I was in Kirkwall."

"Cullen." Fenris said.

"Josephine, I'll handle this." Cullen said.

The woman looked between the two men before nodding. "Very well, welcome to Skyhold Serah Fenris."

"What are you doing here?" Cullen asked, "Maker, your feet!"

Fenris looked down at the blood and dirt stained skin. "That isn't important."

"Not important? Fenris-"

"Hawke. Where is Hawke?" He demanded.

Cullen looked away. "We should speak in private." He said. "My office."

He walked and Fenris followed, leaving bloody footsteps in his wake. The crowds parted for the two and Fenris kept his eyes instinctually down. He didn't want to see the faces of these people, or these strangers that Hawke had... He shook his head. No, Hawke was okay. He had to be.

Cullen's office was messy but warm. The templar poured himself a drink and offered one to Fenris. Fenris shook his head. "Where is Hawke?"

"Maker I thought Varric would have told you."

"Varric told me Hawke was in the Fade."

"Then you know exactly where he is." Cullen said, sagging into his seat.

"He can't be in the Fade. Nothing is there but demons and spirits."

"What we know about the fade has changed. The inquisitor has a mark that lets her open and close portals. She opened one to save them all from falling to their deaths and they ended up in the fade. She said there was a fear demon and that Hawke stayed to kill it so they could escape. The portal closed without Hawke making it through."

Fenris forced himself to keep standing. "But he's not dead."

"What? Fenris, he's in the Fade!"

"But no one saw him die. He's still there."

Cullen put his face in his hands. "Yes I suppose so, but the fade is huge and not someone that physical bodies go. Fenris, Hawke is gone. Not even he could survive-"

"Don't say it." Fenris snapped, the markings flaring to life along his skin, crackling with energy.

"Fenris, I'm sorry but there is nothing that can be done." He said.

Fenris stood there, and wondered if he reached into his own chest, if ripping his own heart out would hurt more or less than the words sinking in. Hawke was gone and there was nothing to be done for it.

"No." Fenris finally said.

"You can't just ignore the truth."

"Hawke's done the impossible time and time again. If anyone can make it through the Fade it's him." Fenris said.

Hawke hadn't given up on him, or on the damned mages in Kirkwall and Fenris wouldn't leave his lover to suffer in the Fade.

"Fenris, you can't-"

"Try to stop me and I will kill you," Fenris held out his glowing hand towards Cullen. "Now, take me to the inquisitor."

The inquisitor stared over the balcony and the scarred sky over the mountains still coated with snow. They had won; they'd partied and done everything right so why did the victory ring so hollow?

"I distracted you from your duty. It will never happen again." He'd said after he'd removed the vallaslin from her skin.

And that had been it. No words, no arguing or explanation. And now Solas was simply gone, vanished from Skyhold without a word. Part of her hoped something had happened to him to force him away but part of her worried that something had happened.

She had far more important things to worry about than the man who'd taken her heart, broken it on the floor then walked away, but here she was locked away in her room and wishing the scar in the sky would open again. That would at least be a concrete thing to focus on.

Now it was all playing diplomat, saying the right thing for the right favor and it was nothing that she wanted. As a rogue she didn't operate in the light like this and living in this constant spotlight as savior in a world of humans had pushed her past every boundary she'd ever had.

A knock on the door pulled her attention from her thoughts. "Josephine for the last time, I don't care about what drapery we display for Queen Anora's visit!" She called.

"Ah good then I'll make sure we decorate everything with a flare of Tevinter blood magic to really make her feel welcome." Dorian said as he walked in.

"Dorian? Is something wrong? Is Bull ok?" She asked, walking into the room to meet him.

"Yes. Everything is fine except that you have not been out of your room since that splendid party."

"Not true."

"Going to the war table to send Leliana on a hunt for a giant nug does not count." Dorian said, sitting on the bed and patting the space beside him.

The inquisitor sat down beside him. "I'm fine Dorian."

"You have not dragged us out through maker knows what in weeks. That says problem." Dorian said. "It's Solas isn't it?"

"No, it's just catching up on sleep. We've been running non-stop for months." She said.

"Right. And I somehow doubt you've been up here sleeping all this time. Come on, come out to the tavern for a drink at least."

"Dorian, thank you but I'm not up for that right now." She said.

He sighed. "I don't get told no when I invite someone out for drinks too often."

She smiled and kissed his cheek. "I will tell no one."

He laughed. "Perish the thought!"

He stood up but hesitated. "Are you sure? You're alright?"

"I'm fine. Tomorrow I'll drag you off to the Empris just like old times, right?"

Dorian shook his head. "I'd rather be dragged off to Orlais." He waved and reluctantly left the room.

She watched him go, shaking her head.

"He hurts, an old pain from before, when everything sang the same."

She jumped despite knowing the quiet voice. "Cole, I have told you before to not just show up in my room." She turned to the blond young man sitting cross-legged on the edge of her desk.

"I am sorry. There are hurts here." He said.

"And it's not something you can help with. I already told you."

"But the hurt is deep. I could-"

"Cole, no. There are a lot of other people hurting that you can help Cole."

"But you are my friend."

She smiled. "Thank you Cole, you're my friend too, but I need to have this hurt."

"Why? It makes you sad."

"Because I'd rather have this than forget." She said.

"Is Solas going to come back?"

"I don't know Cole."

"Where did he go?"

She shook her head.

"Why did he go alone?" Cole asked.

The inquistitor sighed. "Because he thought he had to." She said.

She remembered the tombstones in the Fade, all their worst fears laid out in stone waiting to claim them. Solas' had been dying alone and instead of fleeing it, Solas was flinging himself towards that fate.

"I miss him."

"I know you do." She said. "Go help someone else Cole. There are a lot of people hurting."

"Not so many now. You helped people when you fixed the sky."

The inquistior nodded.

"Why does Solas leaving hurt you so much?" Cole asked.

"Because we," The inquistitor trailed off lost before answering weakly. "Because we almost had something."

"Does the almost make it worse?"

"Maybe." She said.

She'd had relationships before Solas but what had been building between the two of them had felt deeper, like a river bursting forth from underground and sweeping away cities in its wake.

"Will you have a not almost?" Cole asked.

The inquisitor stayed silent, before turning to Cole. "Go help someone else. Some of the refugees, the injured, anyone but me Cole."

"But-"

"Cole go."

She didn't hear Cole leave but the wind rustled and the room was empty again. She shook her head and walked over to the basin of water to wash her face. The water ripped through her reflection and she tried to adjust herself to the new face in the mirror. The vallaslin left nothing for her features to hide behind and she felt more exposed than ever without something to disguise her emotions. Why had she agreed to let him remove it?

Because it marked her as a slave, as a fool, as a Dalish child playing with myths that she didn't understand. How could Solas make her feel so in wonder of her own people, so like the history was a massive missing part of her life?

She shook her head. Dorian was right. She couldn't, wouldn't just hide in her room and mope because of a boy. She was Andraste's chosen, the inquisitor who had sealed the sky and defeated the arch-demon magister of old and all without becoming a martyr. Some boy wasn't going to break her.

She got back into armor, grabbed her bow, tossed it over her shoulder and headed out of her room and straight into Cullen's chest.

"Er… Inquisitor?" He said.

She stepped. "What is it? An attack?" She asked.

Maker let there be an attack, something she could hit that would hit back.

Cullen shook his head. "No, I wanted to introduce you to an old friend. Fenris, this is the inquisitor."

The elf in front of her had markings she'd never seen before; they expanded from his chin down to every expanse of skin she could see. His hair was a stock white color she'd only ever seen on their elders but his skin didn't bare the touch of time.

"A pleasure to meet-"

"Where is Hawke?" Fenris demanded.

The inquisitor looked to Cullen then back to Fenris. She opened her mouth, closed it and rubbed her temples. "Let's talk at the war table." She said.

She ignored the voice telling her she should've stayed in her room.


End file.
